


An Inconvenient Time of the Day

by pixie_rings



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, F/F, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Morning Sex, Slice of Life, breakfasts are burnt, everything is tooth-rottingly sweet and nothing hurts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 17:16:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7062109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixie_rings/pseuds/pixie_rings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of mornings for various couples.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tuesday

**Author's Note:**

> This will be various pairings, mostly my favourites, and updated whenever life isn't kicking my ass too much.

The light has that diluted, weak quality to it, barely making the room any brighter. The sun hasn't risen yet. It's cold outside the bed, a chill on the air from where the heater has turned itself off in the night, but under the covers is toasty snug. Everything is very, very still and very, very quiet, peace hanging in the air, holding the moment like a picture frame.

It's a quarter past five and the spell is broken by Hinata’s obnoxious alarm. Kageyama's hand shivers when it leaves the covers to press the snooze button, quickly dragging it back in to warm it on the smooth skin of Hinata's back, right where his vest has risen up. Hinata makes an unhappy noise, squirming under the touch.

Neither of them makes the slightest move to get out of bed.

“Oi, shouldn't we be getting up?” Kageyama slurs, doing exactly the opposite and burying his face in Hinata's hair, extra-fluffy from sleep. Hinata makes another noise, the milky groan of a baby waking up, and snuggles deeper into Kageyama's arms, face pressed stubbornly in the groove between arm and chest.

“Don' wanna,” he mumbles, barely intelligible. Kageyama huffs.

“It's morning run time,” he says, hooking Hinata's legs with his calf and drawing them tight between his own. If he could meld them into one, he would. Briefly he wonders what a cross between himself and Hinata would be like, and he envisions something like a mix between Fanta and Coca Cola. It's a weird early-morning thought, and it doesn't stay for long, not when Hinata's hands dip beneath the waistband of his boxers. Kageyama knows all the different ways Hinata touches and there's nothing sexual to this, just contact for the sake of it, but still... it's distracting. There's nothing sneaky or teasing about this touch, but it almost seems like it promises it.

“Butt-toucher,” he mutters, and Hinata sniggers into his skin, his breath hot.

“What's today?” Hinata asks, turning his head slightly, enough that his mouth's free to talk. Kageyama wrinkles his nose as he thinks.

“Tuesday,” he replies. Hinata makes a third unhappy noise, this one like a cat that's been moved from its spot in a sunbeam.

“I hate Tuesdays,” he says, and Kageyama can practically hear the pout. “Can't we skip today?”

Kageyama bites his lip. They really shouldn't. Skipping days means getting complacent, and complacency means letting Hinata win. But it's Hinata himself suggesting it, so would it be ok?Would one morning off really hurt, would it lead to the death of their sports careers and the collapse of human civilisation as they know it? They never sleep in, even on a Sunday, and, as Suga-san says, everyone deserves a cheat day, right? He thinks about the world outside, how cold and unpleasant it is, how the air will be sharp on his cheeks and feel like pins as he breathes it in when he runs. Then he thinks about the world inside, in this cocoon, wrapped up with his own personal heater and sun, and all the lazy touches and kisses he can get out of the situation.

He huffs again, nuzzling against Hinata's forehead. “Fine.” He's so weak.

Hinata peppers kisses over his shoulder, messy kisses like a child's fingerpainting. Gradually, even as the world gets brighter, it goes back to sleep again, very, very still and very, very quiet.


	2. Tuesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...It's not like DaiSuga is my OTP, or anything. *innocent whistling*

Suga has a particular dislike for Tuesdays. Tuesdays are when the alarm goes off at six and Daichi tries his hardest to slip out of bed without waking him, but never manages to, mainly because they're entwined so intricately it's like trying to untie a Gordian knot. And, well... it's not like Suga's trying to hold on to him, or anything, that would be absurd.

“Noooo,” Suga whines, hand still holding onto Daichi's as if his life depends on it. He's managed to nearly liberate himself, but Suga is nothing if not stubborn, and Daichi is the world's most comfortable pillow. He laughs.

“You know I have class early on a Tuesday,” he says. Suga opens his eyes and tries for the puppy dog look. It almost works. He can feel Daichi falter a little as Suga's fingers run gently over his pulse, but it's not enough. Daichi's warm skin slips from his grip and he heads, half-naked, to the bathroom to get ready. Suga sighs. At least the view is good, all broad shoulders and tight ass and he can see just enough of those thighs to prop himself up and bite his lip.

“I hate it when you leave, but I love watching you go,” he says, grateful Daichi's left the door open. Daichi laughs, flushes the toilet and goes to wash his hands and brush his teeth.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” He comes back into the bedroom smelling of deodorant and mint toothpaste and Suga snuggles back under the covers with a pout.

“You're so mean to me, leaving me here like this,” he grumbles. He catches a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror on the wardrobe door, mostly bed-hair, but then he's distracted by the considerable amount of skin Daichi decides to show off when changing his underwear. Suga's palms itch, his mouth waters, and it's so, so unfair when green and blue checks cover up such a tantalising display.

“I'll be back before you know it,” Daichi says. The bed dips as he sits down to pull on his socks, and Suga sneaks his hand out to tease along the waistband of his boxers. He runs his finger up Daichi's spine, smirking at the shiver beneath his touch, admiring the contrast between the colours of their skin, warm toffee and porcelain.

“You'd better be,” he murmurs, voice dropping just enough that Daichi shudders again, and he turns this time, eyes darkened, one fist clenching as he attempts to steel his resolve. Suga watches him from under his lashes, smirk becoming more seductive.

“God, you're hard to resist,” Daichi mutters, leaning over to kiss him, heedless of morning breath.

“It's all part of the master plan,” Suga replies, feeling triumphant. He kisses Daichi again, wraps his arms around his shoulders, pulls him closer.

Another alarm goes off. Suga's eyes open wide in shock. Daichi pulls back with the worst attempt at a reproachful frown.

“I see what you're doing there. Trying to seduce me. Why, Sugawara-san, how devilish of you.”

“You set another alarm?” Suga asks incredulously. He's shocked enough that his hold on Daichi loosens and he manages to escape and put the rest of his clothes on.

“You try this every Tuesday,” Daichi says with a wry grin. “I have to remind myself I actually have to go to class.”

Suga flops back onto the bed with a groan, utterly defeated. “Fine. Go. Leave me here to wither away.” He presses the back of his hand to his forehead, as melodramatic as possible. Daichi chuckles, pulling on a hoodie.

“You're still in the bloom of youth, Suga, stop worrying.”

“You'll still love me when I _am_ old, right?”

“I love you now and you're already grey, wrinkles won't change anything.”

Suga throws a pillow at him as he ducks out of the door, his laughter drifting back to the bedroom. The smell of coffee eventually floats into the bedroom, but Suga's already nestled back down and is halfway back to sleep. He doesn't feel the kiss Daichi presses to his forehead before he leaves, doesn't notice the covers being tucked around him, he just sighs and continues sleeping.


	3. Tuesday again? No problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that Noya's libido means the boy needs sex like three times a day (to be taken before or after meals). Poor Asahi, he must be worn out.
> 
> I also like to think that Noya and Tanaka are roommates after leaving school. Bros got each other's back.
> 
> ~~Kill me for that chapter title~~

Nishinoya tilts his head back, letting out a moan that's too loud for his time of the morning, but he's never given a shit about propriety and he's not going to start now. He shifts, rocking into a steady rhythm, biting down a smile at the glorious sensation of fullness as Asahi meets his movement.

Morning sex is the best way to wake up, in Nishinoya's book.

He licks his lips, sets the pace to slow and deep, looking down with heavy-lidded eyes at Asahi. He's gorgeous like this, hair spread over the pillow, flushed from chest to cheeks, lips parted around almost disbelieving gasps, eyes dark. Nishinoya holds himself up, drives himself down again, just to hear him groan, closer and closer to coming undone. Asahi gives him everything he's ever wanted, everything he could ever want, and he doesn't think he'll ever have enough of it.

Asahi's hands ground him by his hips, large hands spread hot across his skin, his movements stronger and stronger, driving deep into Nishinoya as Nishinoya lets out moan after moan. He can feel it, the stutter in Asahi's thrusts whenever he hits that spot that makes every nerve in Nishinoya's body tremble: he's getting closer. He knows Asahi's tune by now, knows the crescendo and the finale, but it's music he'll never, ever get tired of hearing. Like a siren song it calls to him, and he fucking loves answering. He can feel his own climax steadily building, a rip-tide of pleasure. He leans forward, meets Asahi's lips, sharing moans, and smiles when Asahi stills, deep as he can go.

He wraps his fingers around his own cock, strips himself, and comes across Asahi's stomach, crying out his own orgasm against Asahi's mouth.

It always takes Asahi a moment to come down, so Nishinoya licks his fingers clean of his own semen, his grin catlike as he chases the tremors of aftershock under his skin.

“Good?” he asks. Asahi nods. He kisses Nishinoya's temple, his forehead, the bridge of his nose, and Nishinoya sighs, shifts. Asahi slips out, dripping down Nishinoya's thighs, and Nishinoya wishes they could have all day in bed like, every day in bed like this, fucking until neither can walk or even see straight.

He pouts when he remembers they can't have that: Asahi has university, Nishinoya has work, everything is awful.

“I need to get ready,” Asahi says, carding his fingers through Nishinoya's hair. He sounds like it's the worst possible thing in the world. Nishinoya snuggles into his neck.

“Fucking life,” he grumbles. Asahi chuckles, his arms around Nishinoya's shoulders, holding them close, heartbeat to heartbeat.

“I know.”

Nishinoya waits a moment longer before rolling unhappily off, allowing Asahi to use the bathroom and get ready. He really should be doing the same, he muses, but he also really doesn't want to.

He does though, cleans himself up and brushes his teeth and styles his hair. He fixes Asahi's bun and together they head to the kitchen.

Ryuu glares at them from over his coffee, still only half-dressed because he doesn't have to work until midday. “You two are so fucking loud,” he states. Immediately Asahi turns bright red, taking refuge in the tiny kitchen and the coffee-making. Nishinoya sticks his tongue out.

“You're just jealous you're not getting any,” he says primly. “I, on the other hand, get a good fuck from a sex god every morning. Does wonders for my skin.” He rubs his cheek and knows he looks satisfied, and that it will piss Ryuu off immensely.

“Yuu!” Asahi balks from the kitchen, making both Nishinoya and Ryuu laugh. Asahi then makes breakfast (it's his turn on the wheel on the fridge) and Ryuu floats off back to bed afterwards to fit in some more sleep. That leaves Nishinoya and Asahi alone, and Asahi has to leave first because the university is further away than the coffeeshop Nishinoya works at.

“Um...” Asahi hovers at the door, looking down but not meeting Nishinoya's eyes. It's adorable.

Nishinoya reaches up, on his toes, and curls his fingers around Asahi's nape. He pulls him into a kiss.

“Love you!” he says. “Have a good day!”

Asahi's flush as he nods and leaves is far too cute.


	4. Sunday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *clenches fist and sheds single tear* LESBIANS
> 
> Btw, the chapter titles aren't in any chronological order, they just happen on random days of the week. The first three just happened to be Tuesdays because I am the author and what I say goes.
> 
> Also, we need more dorky Kiyoko in the world.

Kiyoko jerks awake to the smell of burning eggs. Immediately she bolts up in alarm, still disoriented from sleep, and nearly faceplants into the doorjamb in the rush to get out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. She trails the cover down the hallway and finally stumbles into the kitchen.

The window has been opened to clear the air and let the smoke out, and, admittedly, Sendai's air pollution is a better smell than burning omelette. Standing forlornly by the cooker is Hitoka, wearing tracksuit bottoms and the cute chick apron, holding a spatula. Granted, the whole image is a little blurry: Kiyoko has to squint, glasses left in the bedroom.

“Hitoka-chan,” she begins, rubbing her eyes. Nothing's on fire, so she can relax a bit. Hitoka almost jumps out of her skin and whips around, clutching the spatula as if it's both a sword and a shield. She looks absolutely terrified.

“I'm sorry!” she wails, big fat tears beginning to pour down her face. “I didn't mean to burn it!”

“What were you doing?” Kiyoko asks in bewilderment, looking at the clock. She can fuzzily make out that it's only half-past eight. On a Sunday morning. She heads to the cooker to survey the charred remains at the bottom of the frying pat, and they would be indistinguishable from the colour of the actual pan if they weren't so crisp and lumpy.

“I... I wanted to make you breakfast in bed,” Hitoka mumbled, lowering the spatula. Kiyoko turns to look at her, blinking for a moment. Something warm and happy bubbles up in her chest, filling her to the point of overflowing and making her face heat up. Sometimes she wonders what she did to deserve someone so wonderfully adorable.

“Oh, Hitoka-chan, that's so sweet,” she says. Smiling fondly, she takes the spatula from Hitoka's now lax grip and sets it aside, taking her girlfriend's hands in her own and squeezing them affectionately. “Thank you.”

Hitoka looks at her with an expression that might be confusion or bewilderment, or both, without her glasses Kiyoko can't really tell.

“But... I _burnt_ it,” she says. From the tone of her voice, yes, it's bewildered confusion.

“So? You were sweet enough to get up early and do this for me.” She leans forward and kisses her, on the forehead, the tip of her nose, the corner of her lips. She can feel Hitoka's face heating up, their cheeks so close. “You're adorable.”

“M-morning breath!” Hitoka squeaks, and Kiyoko rears back, slapping a hand over her mouth. Oops. Hitoka's face burns brilliant red. “Oh my gosh I'm _so sorry_ I didn't mean to say that your breath smells lovely forgive me I'm so awful!”

Kiyoko places her other hand over Hitoka's mouth, effectively quietening her. Hitoka deflates slightly, but she still seems worried.

“Don't worry,” Kiyoko says from between her fingers. “I _do_ need to brush my teeth.”

It's been a whole year since she moved in, since they actually took a chance on what they'd felt for each other in that brief year they'd shared at Karasuno, and Hitoka is still so insecure. She's been getting better, and Kiyoko has kinks of her own to work out (communication will always be her nemesis), but if anything bad happens, Hitoka just spirals down and won't – can't – get back up for a while. She needs to know that Kiyoko is always going to be there, comments on morning breath and kitchen disasters and all. 

“Let me get my glasses and we'll clean up,” she says with a smile, and Hitoka nods miserably. While she's fetching her glasses and a pair of comfy shorts from the bedroom, Kiyoko makes sure to make a detour to the bathroom before she returns. Minty fresh.

“M-maybe I should clean up!” Hitoka says. “I made the mess, after all!”

Kiyoko waves away her protests and pulls her closer. “We'll do it together, don't worry,” she says, and this time the kiss hits the target. Hitoka stiffens, but then melts against her with a contented sigh. Kiyoko smiles into the kiss, feeling even luckier than before.


End file.
